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I didn't study acting.

quote by Ray Walston
Added by Lucian Velea
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Down By The Riverside

(public domain)
Im gonna lay down my burden, down by the riverside,
Down by the riverside, down by the riverside
Im gonna lay down my burden, down by the riverside,
Im gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more
Well, Im gonna put on my long white robe, (where? ) down by the riverside (oh)
Down by the riverside, down by the riverside
Im gonna put on my long white robe, (where? ) down by the riverside
Im gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more
Well, Im gonna lay down my sword and shield, (where? ) down by the riverside
Down by the riverside, down by the riverside
Im gonna lay down my sword and shield, (a-ha) down by the riverside
Im gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more
I aint a gonna study war no more, I aint a gonna study war no more

song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Maybe I'm crazy

I am not Emo
I’m not a Goth
I’m perfectly normal
But I know what it feels to be lost
Stuck in the crowd
Can’t hear a sound
Feels like I’m pushed back in the distance
Can’t come out
Do people see?
Do they believe?
Or am I just crazy from being lonely?

The words burst from my lips as I scream
But the people around me don’t seem to hear a thing
Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?
The world is acting like they don’t know about me
Am I forgotten? Am I just crazy?
Am I just lost? Am I just lonely?
Somebody hear me
Somebody save me

I check my phone, nobody calls
I can’t help, but feeling so forgot
I put on a show, nobody knows
Where did all the people I used to love, go?
I see a face, forgot its name
But they don’t seem to recognize me, anyway
All of my friends are with somebody else
And now I’m sitting here all by myself
(All by myself)

The words burst from my lips as I scream
(From my lips, as I scream)
But the people around me don’t seem to hear a thing
(But the people, don’t hear a thing)
Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?
(Am I invisible? Am I going crazy?)
The world is acting like they don’t know about me
(Acting like, don’t know about me)
Am I forgotten? Am I going crazy?
(Am I forgotten? Am I going crazy?)
Am I just lost? Am I just lonely?
(Am I just lost, maybe I’m lonely)
Somebody hear me
(Somebody near me)
Somebody save me
(Somebody save me)
Or am I just crazy?
Or am I just crazy?

[...] Read more

poem by Sugar Bear
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I Find It Hard To Believe

I find it hard to believe
I find it hard to believe
That Im embarassed at me
For being upset
Over acting so contemptuously (I find it hard to believe)
Acting so contemptuously (I find it hard to believe)
Acting so contemptuously (that Im embarassed at me)
Acting so contemptuously (that Im embarassed at me)
(for being upset over acting so contemptuously)
Acting so contemptuously (acting so contemptuously)
Acting so contemptuously (on me)
I find it hard to believe

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Schooling Relationship

you are the subject which i study
understanding and getting to know you psychologically
learning new ways to do right
ways to out do the wrong
you are the subject which i study
practicing and testing the goods and bads
you are the subject which i study
the time has come graduation is here
learn the subject by studing its psychology
understanding is the only way for success
now we move on to the next step
you are the subject which i study to major
as i take hold of your hand
guide you through rough times throughout this life
you are the subject which i study to major
as time goes by ticking away
i studied you all those days
i understand your past history life
your psychology means alot to me
mentally physically emotionally speaking
you are the subject which i study to major...

poem by Diara Armstead
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Acting As Your Slave

My hand asleep for hours
Waiting for the needles to begin
I have no control
They proceed to penetrate my skin
Acting as your slave I drink for amber waves
I never have embraced
Acting as your slave I drink an open grave
An epitaph defaced
Killing with compassion
She hasnt heard a word that I have said
Swallowing your passion
I can see a thousand miles ahead
Acting as your slave I drink for barricades
That I have often raised
Acting as your slave I numb my head and rave
Of epitaphs defaced
Acting as your slave I drink while she forgave
With trials left unfaced
Acting as your slave I stumble to her grave
An epitaph defaced

song performed by Verve Pipe
Added by Lucian Velea
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On The Pleasures Of College Life

With tears I leave these academic bowers,
And cease to cull the scientific flowers;
With tears I hail the fair succeeding train,
And take my exit with a breast of pain.
The Fresh may trace these wonders as they smile;
The stream of science like the river Nile,
Reflecting mental beauties as it flows,
Which all the charms of College life disclose;
This sacred current as it runs refines,
Whilst Byron sings and Shakspeare's mirror shines.
First like a garden flower did I rise,
When on the college bloom I cast my eyes;
I strove to emulate each smiling gem,
Resolved to wear the classic diadem;
But when the Freshman's garden breeze was gone;
Around me spread a vast extensive lawn;
'Twas there the muse of college life begun,
Beneath the rays of erudition's sun,

Where study drew the mystic focus down,
And lit the lamp of nature with renown;
There first I heard the epic thunders roll,
And Homer's light'ning darted through my soul.
Hard was the task to trace each devious line,
Though Locke and Newton bade me soar and shine;
I sunk beneath the heat of Franklin's blaze,
And struck the notes of philosophic praise;
With timid thought I strove the test to stand,
Reclining on a cultivated land,
Which often spread beneath a college bower,
And thus invoked the intellectual shower;
E'en that fond sire on whose depilous crown,
The smile of courts and states shall shed renown;
Now far above the noise of country strife,
I frown upon the gloom of rustic life,
Where no pure stream of bright distinction flows,
No mark between the thistle and the rose;
One's like a bird encaged and bare of food,
Borne by the fowler from his native wood,
Where sprightly oft he sprung from spray to spray,
And cheer'd the forest with his artless lay,

Or fluttered o'er the purling brook at will,
Sung in the dale or soar'd above the hill.
Such are the liberal charms of college life,
Where pleasure flows without a breeze of strife;
And such would be my pain if cast away,
Without the blooms of study to display.
Beware, ye college birds, again beware,
And shun the fowler with his subtile snare;

[...] Read more

poem by George Moses Horton
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To My Sons, Eddie & Edwin

You're my cute little son,
But you're always stubborn,
Fast to get anger and upset
Very small hearted person.

Why you so like that
Give me the reasons
Why? , why? , why?
Why you so disobedient person?

You all are clever
But lazy and hard headed
Sometimes, you are good
But you're very naughty boy.

Always Be a good boy
My boy, my boy,
Listen to elderly always,
Respect your parents.

Please study hard
Study smarter
Future in your hands
No one can change you
Unless yourself.

Don't play only
Remember to study things
You love and likes
Learn as much as you can.

Time is short,
Time never return,
Study when you're young
Study when you're grow up too.

Stop playing games,
Start your lessons on time
Stop fooling around,
Stop arguing with parents.

My sons, Eddie and Edwin
Always I love you all
No matter Where,
No matter When,
No matter How.
You're always my sons.

poem by Lawrence Hiung
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The Mystery Remains story poem

By my lanthorn dimly burning.
I have trouble in discerning
the faint words scrawled upon the page
By the hand of a long dead sage.

What I study is forbidden
a secret I must keep hidden.
I dare not study it by day
and that is why I hide away.

In the dark hours of the night.
I study by a lanthorns light.
Lest the priesthood should suspect.
For they would kill me to protect

from what they see as wizardry
although it’s only chemistry.
The shaveling priests of Mother Church
have full authority to search.

As and when and where they choose
.a power open to abuse
And they abuse it readily
in their search for men like me.

Men who defy authority,
pursue their studies secretly.
The church pretends to safeguard souls
but aims to keep in place controls.

Which keep the people ignorant
so that they will accept the cant.
The falsehoods and hypocrisy
of the priests more easily.

The common man must never know.
Because the church will have it so.
That education is the key
to knowledge which will set them free.

From religious domination.
To me a foul abomination.
The Holy Book from which they preach
written in a language will do not teach

To any but the favoured few
Who think the same way that they do.
Which will maintain the Status Quo
beneath the piety they show.

[...] Read more

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Whats In It For Me

(billy burnette, bekka bramlett, annie roboff)
Thought we had a good thing baby
You pulled the wool over my eyes
Shouldve seen it coming baby
Now all I see is a cool love dying
Honey I dont want to hold you down
Why you gotta own the lock and the key
Oh tell me baby
Good things just dont come around
And you cant have them for free
No not me
Youve been a river of give
And an ocean of take
Darlin for heavens sake
Youve got me up and down and in between
Acting nice then being real mean
Hey
Well you hold me tight then you turn your back
Who could deal with that
You say you want to work it out, boy
Tell me whats in it for me
Youre living in your own world
You act like Im just passing through
Oh yeah
Dont you want to be happy
Dont you know how good I could be
Seems everybodys telling you something
That they know you just want to hear
Oh but you aint gonna hear it from me
Youve been a valley of love
And a mountain of need
Baby, its time you see
Youve got me up and down and in between
Acting nice then being real mean
Hey
Well you hold me tight then you turn your back
Who could deal with that
You say you want to work it out, boy
Tell me whats in it for me
Up and down and in between
Acting nice then being real mean
Well you hold me tight then you turn your back
Who could deal with that
You say you want to work it out boy
Tell me whats in it for me
Youve been a river of give and a mountain of take
Darlin for heavens sake
Youve got me up and down and in between
Acting nice then being real mean
Hey

[...] Read more

song performed by Faith Hill
Added by Lucian Velea
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I must study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. My sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history, naval architecture, navigation, commerce, and agriculture, in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry, and porcelain.

quote by John Adams
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In right knowledge the study of man must proceed on parallel lines with the study of the world, and the study of the world must run parallel with the study of man.

quote by G.I. Gurdjieff
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Tea Leaf Prophecy

Words by joni mitchell
Music by larry klein and joni mitchell
Study war no more
Lay down your arms
Study war no more
Lay 'em down, lay 'em down now
Study war no more
Lay down your arms
Study war no more
Newsreels rattle the nazi dread--
The able-bodied have shipped away--
Molly mcgee gets her tea-leaves read--
You'll be married in a month they say
"these leaves are crazy!
Look at this town--there's no men left!
Just frail old boys and babies
Talking to teacher in the treble clef."
She plants her garden in the spring
She does the winter shovelling
Tokyo rose on the radio
She says she's leavin' but she don't go
Out of the blue--just passin' thru
A young flight sergeant
On two weeks leave--
Says "molly mcgee--no one else will do!"
And seals the tea-leaf prophecy.
Oh these nights are strong and soft--
Private passions and secret storms
Nothin' about him ticks her off
And he looks so cute in his uniform
She plants her garden in the spring
He does the winter shovelling
But summer's just a sneeze
In a long-long-bad-winter cold
She says, "i'm leavin' here" but she don't go
"sleep little darlin'!
This is your happy home
Hiroshima cannot be pardoned!
Don't have kids when you get grown.
Because, this world is shattered
The wise are mourning--
The fools are joking
Oh--what does it matter?
The wash needs ironing
And the fire needs stoking."
She plants her garden in the spring
He does the winter shovelling
The three of 'em laughing 'round the radio
She says "i'm leavin' here" but she don't go
She plants her garden in the spring

[...] Read more

song performed by Joni Mitchell
Added by Lucian Velea
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Swansong

“Look! The aging poet sleepwalks again.”
“Sir, should we wake him from his nightly tour? ”
“No! God no! His heart could not stand the strain.”
“He’s heading for the open study door.
His ambulant steps on the floorboards creak
With every step along the corridor.”
“Listen! The bard is beginning to speak.
Let’s heed his words, step softly on the floor.”

“Where do you lead me
Erato? Oh! The study
What for may I ask? ”

He sits at his desk with his pen in hand
Writing vigorously on a tablet
Almost as if it were by some command.
His outline cast a dreamy silhouette
On the study wall caused by the moonbeam
Shinning through a curtained opened window.
“He writes with eyes closed in his dream”
“Be still! He calls out the name, Erato”

“Erato, you say
This love poem is my last?
How so, may I ask? ”

The poets hand stops writing a moment
Than briefly begins again then desists
Completely; lays the pen down and laments
While rising from his chair clenching both fists
Then begins to walk toward his bedroom
“Should we read what the old bard has written? ”
“Not now! Let’s follow him back to his room
“But...” “Please keep quiet! He speaks once again.”

“Erato I have
Finished what you asked of me
This is my swansong.”

The old poet reached the side of his bed
And gently slid under the bed covers
A smile appears than wanes. “Is the bard dead? ”
“Yes! He’s gone where all the poet lovers’
Always go: with the lovely Erato”
“I hear a lyre! Do your ears hear the same? ”
“Yes! It plays for another poet’s soul
That enters Erato’s love poems domain”
*******************************

Standing at the old poets study desk

[...] Read more

poem by Albert Ahearn
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National study of Physiology

Living in england just isnt what it used to be
Were living in a messed up parliamentary democracy
And to be telling the truth is now to be constricted
That is the results of my National study of Physiology

My study is of how everybody lives and work
But every movment I take im being followed
I get someone to tell the truth, there killed
And once again the nation is in sorrow

We are still a country with a constitutional monarchy
And the queen just comes out on a special occasion
Just looking on letting parliament close down free will
And still I carry on with my National study of Physiology

It now seems every day there a murder or death on the news
Its either caused by some disagrement from ethnic race’s
Another country have a brand new war
But then straight back to local where its caused by booze’s

And now I think I have my results of my National study of Physiology
And I can now leave with my keen understanding of my bioloigy.

poem by Daniel Laurence
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Conclusion Of A Letter To The Rev. Mr. C---.

'Tis Time to conclude; for I make it a Rule,
To leave off all Writing, when Con. comes from School.
He dislikes what I've written, and says, I had better
To send what he calls a poetical Letter.

To this I reply'd, You are out of your Wits;
A Letter in Verse would put him in Fits:
He thinks it a Crime in a Woman to read--
Then, what would he say, should your Counsel succeed?

I pity poor Barber, his Wife's so romantick:
A Letter in Rhyme!--Why, the Woman is frantick!
This Reading the Poets has quite turn'd her Head!
On my Life, she should have a dark Room, and Straw Bed.
I often heard say, that St. Patrick took care,
No poisonous Creature should live in this Air:
He only regarded the Body, I find;
But Plato consider'd who poison'd the Mind.
Would they'd follow his Precepts, who sit at the Helm,
And drive Poetasters from out of the Realm!

Her Husband has surely a terrible Life;
There's nothing I dread, like a verse--writing Wife:
Defend me, ye Powers, from that fatal Curse;
Which must heighten the Plagues of for better for worse!

May I have a Wife, that will dust her own Floor;
And not the fine Minx, recommended by More.
(That he was a Dotard, is granted, I hope,
Who dy'd for asserting the Rights of the Pope.)
If ever I marry, I'll chuse me a Spouse,
That shall serve and obey, as she's bound by her Vows;
That shall, when I'm dressing, attend like a Valet;
Then go to the Kitchen, and study my Palate.
She has Wisdom enough, that keeps out of the Dirt,
And can make a good Pudding, and cut out a Shirt.
What Good's in a Dame, that will pore on a Book?
No!--Give me the Wife, that shall save me a Cook.

Thus far I had written--Then turn'd to my Son,
To give him Advice, ere my Letter was done.
My Son, should you marry, look out for a Wife,
That's fitted to lighten the Labours of Life.
Be sure, wed a Woman you thoroughly know,
And shun, above all Things, a housewifely Shrew;
That would fly to your Study, with Fire in her Looks,
And ask what you got by your poring on Books;
Think Dressing of Dinner the Height of all Science,
And to Peace, and good Humour bid open Defiance.

[...] Read more

poem by Mary Barber
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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A Man Who Would Woo a Fair Maid

A man who would woo a fair maid,
Should 'prentice himself to the trade;
And study all day,
In methodical way,
How to flatter, cajole, and persuade.
He should 'prentice himself at fourteen
And practise from morning to e'en;
And when he's of age,
If he will, I'll engage,
He may capture the heart of a queen!
It is purely a matter of skill,
Which all may attain if they will:
But every Jack
He must study the knack
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!

If he's made the best use of his time,
His twig he'll so carefully lime
That every bird
Will come down at his word.
Whatever its plumage and clime.
He must learn that the thrill of a touch
May mean little, or nothing, or much;
It's an instrument rare,
To be handled with care,
And ought to be treated as such.
It is purely a matter of skill,
Which all may attain if they will:
But every Jack,
He must study the knack
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!

Then a glance may be timid or free;
It will vary in mighty degree,
From an impudent stare
To a look of despair
That no maid without pity can see.
And a glance of despair is no guide -
It may have its ridiculous side;
It may draw you a tear
Or a box on the ear;
You can never be sure till you've tried.
It is purely a matter of skill,
Which all may attain if they will:
But every Jack
He must study the knack
If he wants to make sure of his Jill!

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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R. U. O. K.

Key:-a - anita r - ray
R: do you think the mics the same, when I talk to your brain
So youre playing hard to get, or you dont wanna play the game
So Ill help you out through thick and thin
Like the dog in the story called rin tin tin
So my rhymes are fast coming up from the past
Always on time, yo!, cause I dont wont to be last
Open your dreams say, what more can I say?
Yip pe yard, yip pe yeah, hay girl r.u.o.k.? !
A: you go away, you got nothing left to say
Didnt even call today, r.u.o.k now?
You acting strange, wondering why you change
You playing silly games, r.u.o.k. now? !
A: youre asking me if Im ok
Well I uset to be till you came my way
Yes, Im sweating and sure I bluse
Not because Im shy but Im furious
Boy, you used me and abuse me
And now you asked me if Im ok
Well Im leaving you, no intention to stay
Im stepping out that door boy
Ill be ok
A: you go away, you got nothing left to say
Didnt even call today, r.u.o.k now?
You acting strange, wondering why you change
You playing silly games, r.u.o.k. now? !
R: if youre feeling stressed
Are you feeling depressed
R.u.o.k.
A: no, no, no, no, no
R: r.u.o.k.
A: no, no, no, no, no
R: hah!
R: pleased to be going in the likes of the morning
This is your final call, yes your final warning
Im acting ridged, yes Im kind of strange
But my love for you, hah girl remains
You never let you feelings go to tell what I need to know
Now you asking me please dont go
Now its to late because theres no more fate
Yip pe yard, yip pe yeah,hah girl r.u.o.k.? !
A: you go away, you got nothing left to say
Didnt even call today, r.u.o.k now?
You acting strange, wondering why you change
You playing silly games, r.u.o.k. now? !

song performed by 2 Unlimited
Added by Lucian Velea
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On The Outside

You stay at home,
All on your own with nothing but walls to talk to.
You never go anywhere,
You say youve nothing to wear,
So you keep all your troubles inside of you.
Theres something hidden in you,
And you keep it out of view.
You shouldnt feel any guilt,
Or have any doubts,
You gotta let yourself out whilst theres something left of you
Hey baby blue,
Dont hide your troubles inside.
Id sure like to knoe you,
And theres so much to show you on the outside.
Somehow I know that we are goona get by,
So stop acting like a ladfy come and cry like a baby on the outside
Outside
I know that the weather is fine,
Outside
I know were gonna be alright.
Somehow I know that we are goonna survive.
So stop acting like a lady come and cry like a baby on the outside
On the outside
You think youre a freak,
And youre afraid to compete,
In a world that you thinks got it down on you,
Youre a closet queen,
You think its obscene,
To let the people see whats deep inside of you.
I know what youre going through,
But what you are is nothing new,
So dont feel ashamed
cos youre not to blame,
Role up the blinds and let the sun come shining through.
Hey baby blue
Dont hide your troubles inside,
You should be glad in the gay,
Nobody cares anyway on the outside.
Somehow I know that we are gonna get by,
So stop acting like a lady come and cry like a baby on the outside.
Outside
I know that the weather is fine
Outside
I know its gonna be alright.
Somehow I know that we are gonna get by,
So stop acting like a lady come and cry like baby on the outside.
On the outside
On the outside

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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